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Dear NBC: Please don't make me look like a dork
37 comments
The great pay debate rages on
33 comments
It could be much worse
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There’s probably not a way to say this without sounding like I have a great big swelled head, but it’s relevant to a point I want to make so I’m just going to say it: My freelancing career (thus far) is a quintessential success story. I mean, in the grand scheme of what can happen when one decides to go into business for oneself, I somehow did it right and am reaping the rewards. I’m not rich—and probably never will be—but I earn a very respectable income. I have regular work and plenty of business contacts. My schedule is flexible and I set my own hours, yet I have more than enough work to make this a sustainable career choice.
Furthermore, my work and income levels have been… if not completely steady, at least predictable for over a year, at this point. Barring any major catastrophe (excuse me while I go knock on some wood), there’s no reason I shouldn’t believe that this is what my career will look like for years to come.
Except.
See, I’m not a person who does particularly well with expectations. I’m a “hope for the best, prepare for the worst” kind of person.
And so if you’ll allow me to borrow the story, I’m Cinderella at 11:55.
Oh, everything is great and wonderful and I’m having the time of my life. But somewhere in the back of my brain, I’m waiting for the clock to strike.
This doesn’t affect me adversely in most of my day-to-day activities; I am not moping around or fretting over the state of my career. No. What’s happening to me is that years of scraping by financially have left me in a place where I still think I’m not allowed to spend any money, because I might be broke again soon.
You’re probably chuckling, now, because I’ve written about buying an iPhone and a new computer, and those aren’t chump-change item. They are, however, tax deductible and part of the cost of doing business for me. And so my brain says, “Sure, no problem. We can do that.”
But a new swimsuit? “C’mon,” says my brain, “do we really need that? Can’t you just keep wearing the one you got five years ago? I mean, that one you found on clearance is still forty whole dollars, and what if all your work dries up tomorrow?”
I so wish I was kidding. Sadly, I’m not.
Is this just my frugal nature, something that will last the rest of my life? Or at some point will my brain heave a sigh of relief, embrace my new financial reality (which, again, is not going to include a yacht or a Jaguar, but can probably handle a new tankini without quite so much angst), and just stop being so ridiculous?
I’m not sure I want you to answer that, actually….
This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 22nd, 2008 at 7:48 am and is filed under Deep thoughts, Now I'm free(lancing).
Tags: freelancing, income, spending
April 22nd, 2008 at 9:02 am
As freelancers, it’s probably impossible to breathe that sigh of relief. I hear exactly what you’re saying. Maybe we could go together on that Jag?
April 22nd, 2008 at 10:22 am
Ugh, do I know what you mean! I recently posted my own entry on not being able to spend money on myself. Other people need or want new things? Sure! No problem? But I want to splurge on a coffee and pretzel at Starbucks - nope, can’t afford that frivolous spending. Especially now that Hubby and I aren’t usig our credit cards this year. Oh well, at any rate, I’m glad to see it’s not just me who won’t spend money on myself.
Have fun swimsuit shopping - if that’s even possible for any woman!
April 22nd, 2008 at 10:25 am
I’m not even sure it’s related to the freelancing, I think you’d be “frugal” even with a 9-5 office job.
Now winning Megamillions or Powerball might be another matter.
April 22nd, 2008 at 10:28 am
I dunno, Brigitte… I’ve always been frugal, yes, but when I had an office job I fretted over this stuff less. I think those years of unemployment left me permanently frightened when it comes to money, sadly.
April 22nd, 2008 at 11:31 am
I can completely relate.
But in my case, when I worked in an office and made tons of money I still always felt like Cinderella at 11:55 — like something was going to happen to change all that.
For me, I think it’s my immigrant experience — the whole uncertainty thing — which is part of who I am, regardless of whether I make $200k or nothing:)
April 22nd, 2008 at 12:01 pm
I hear you - it’s hard to trust in the universe when you’ve been through those extremely tight financial times. I’ve started, built and sold a few businesses in my time and I’m just starting a new one now, so I’m very much in that frugal frame of mind.
I think you hit on something when you talked about being fine spending money on business things but not on yourself - for me, I try to remember that keeping myself happy (whether it’s with a much-needed new bathing suit or a lovely dinner out) is a necessary business expense!
April 22nd, 2008 at 12:10 pm
I think it will get better. I am not (any longer) a freelancer, but in the immediate post-baby years, my income was meager. It reached a comfortable state about 4 years ago and attained what I consider to be a robust status just about 2 years ago. It is only in the last 6 months that I have been at all comfortable spending money on myself (and I still bargain shop to an unhealthy degree).
So, yeah, I think it does get better. Baby steps.
April 22nd, 2008 at 6:59 pm
I’m this way, but for me it’s because I’m currently not bringing in any family income (home full-time with two small children). I know rationally that I’m contributing to the household in an invaluable way, but since I’m not actually producing a paycheck (for the most part; I do some very occasional consulting), I feel as though I shouldn’t spend money on myself.
April 23rd, 2008 at 10:14 am
Boy can I relate! As a single mom, it’s very scary knowing there is no other income — ever. However I work full-time and am blaphing for a fantastic mom-owned company so I feel very blessed. Frugality is ingrained in me and is necessary for my children to have what they need (and sometimes want!). Bathing suit shopping — only if absolutely necessary! LOL
April 23rd, 2008 at 2:20 pm
Mir, you might benefit from a written budget. I know we think of budgets as a tool to reduce spending, but it can just as easily be used as a tool to make you feel more comfortable with a little discretionary outflow.
I can think of two ways that might work.
One would be to set the budget up based on a slow-income month and your ‘necessities’, then a percentage-allocation of anything extra you earned (you might put 25% in retirement savings, 25% in short-term savings for things like vacations and set aside 50% for discretionary spending).
The other way would be to base your budget on an average month and build in some spending for things like new clothes, trips to the movies and pedicures.
I just think maybe if you put it all down on paper, you could see that you ARE watching out for your future (I assume, based on what I, who took wholehearted advantage of my cushy office job to spend about 3 weeks reading your ENTIRE WCS archives) and that a little now-spending isn’t necessarily mutually exclusive with being responsible.
(I discovered this trick, by the way, because I am a saver married to a spender. A budget is how we both keep from feeling the other is totally out of control.)
And P.S., I count ‘ability to run a household for 2 adults on less than $20K per year’ as one of my more impressive, if not resume-worthy skills.
April 23rd, 2008 at 3:35 pm
I think that feeling is why I’ve always been afraid to really freelance. An office job equals a predictable income. Steady paycheck. The uncertainty worries me. But it’s a great motivator, I’m finding out, too. Will I be able to relax about money? Probably not. I’m just a worrier at heart, no matter what.
April 23rd, 2008 at 10:00 pm
Just want to add to this discussion that it’s always seemed to me that men - no matter what their financial situation - do not agonize over such things. I mean, they worry over money, sure. But every now and then they’ll buy something they deem necessary or highly desirable. They’ll think it over. They’ll justify the purchase. They’ll make the purchase. They don’t go home and sweat about it like I do - “post-purchase guilt” is what my husband calls it.